


Tempo

by Capitol_R



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Bad coming out experience, Closeted Character, Homophobia, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Homophobic Language, POV First Person, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, lonely Brian, mentions of abuse, mentions of carter but not by name, mentions of derogatory language, mentions of vince but not by name, none of them are mentioned by name you kinda just gotta know them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capitol_R/pseuds/Capitol_R
Summary: Dom and Brian's relationship has it's problems; Dom and Brian have problems. Maybe it wasn't meant to be.





	Tempo

**Author's Note:**

> So, I actually wrote this for my english class, (as a 'bad romance' story) and that is why nothing is mentioned by name, but I ended up being very happy with the way it came out and figured that if people new the Fast and Furious movies that they could understand what I was getting at. Thanks.  
> Hi, thank you so much everyone that has read this and left a comment or kudos! it is crazy to me that people have actually read this story that i wrote for a class but it is very much appreciated.

I missed it. Being with him. I let him walk away; I pushed him away, but nothing will ever compare to holding him in my arms. When we would lay down and I could put my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat, I could set the tempo of my life around that heartbeat. Being able to feel every small movement he made as I lay across his chest, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. This was the place I could escape from the world. We didn’t have to worry about anybody else and what they might think. This was us; hiding in plain sight. I think this was one of the places, one of the moments when he didn’t feel like our relationship was something to hide. I knew he feared rejection from the family he had created. They were over constantly; almost always having someone over was inconvenient; when it was only his sister we didn’t have to hide.

I had met his sister first, in a bar. She hit on me, which was amusing until I took pity on her and told her I was into guys. She had laughed lightly and told me that her brother was as well. All I could think was that if he was a beautiful as her then I was sold. I integrated into their mixed family rather quickly; I think the speed had scared his best friend. I started in with the Sunday barbecues, and then Tuesday family dinner. Their family had been built, had been friends from their childhood and some people that worked with them; I think I was an anomaly. I hadn’t known anyone an extended time before being brought in, I didn’t work with them, they didn’t know me, and I guess that was scary. Maybe they could sense the electricity in the room whenever he and I looked at each other.

We didn’t play around each other very long, but he made it very clear that it didn’t leave his house and that no one else could know. It was fine at first, I had lived a long time in the closet, and still no one at my work knew. I was desperate not to screw it up, I didn't have anything outside of this family, or this house. I had lost everything before and I was desperately hoping that this wouldn’t end up like that. It took me years to get over it, and still it lingered a bit. Trauma tended to linger. His sister had caught me the first time drinking my sorrows, and trying to ignore the fact that I was living my worst fear. I had no one. No friends, no family, and I had never wanted to be alone. He had been what I was craving, like a wolf that spent a long winter starving, and he had given me what I wanted most. He had been gentle, which was what I gravely needed. I was caught in his gravity and I hadn’t thought that I would ever escape it, I didn’t think I would want to.

We had been laying in his bed, he never cared when I stayed the night because most everyone else thought I was staying with his sister, so there was no risk in letting me stay. I had my eye resting closed but we were both awake as I could feel his fingers running up and down my spine. I made a pleased noise in the back of my throat and I felt more then heard the small laugh that he made. This was our last moment of peace. I realized I was falling, and being caught in his gravity I knew he would be there to catch me. I had thought so at least.

The door was pushed open so suddenly that it banged against the wall of his room. His best friend was standing in the door, taking up the entire space. Whatever he had been about to say stuck in his throat at the sight he saw. Everything kinda turned into a blur for a few moments as I was suddenly displaced by his sudden movement and the yelling that accompanied. There were some few choice words that were thrown my way, and honestly if I ever had a friend use that choice word around me, not even at me, I would never seen them again. I just sat there in thought. Hoping. Praying. That this wasn’t going to change anything. I guess not that it wouldn’t change, because that seemed inevitable, but that it wouldn’t result in me being pushed out of this bed, being pushed out of the family.

The door slammed shut just as loud as when it opened causing me to jump. He started pacing in front of the bed. The pajama pants he pulled on the night before hung low on his hips and there was no need to imagine muscled shoulders and chest. He kept running his hands over his head, as if he wanted to pull on his hair, but his head was shaved clean. I didn’t want to make a sound. My own past experience with men made me timid when they got angry. I curled my knees up to my chest, hugging them there, waiting for him to say something. The despair evident on his face gave me courage to start the conversation before he could.

The argument got out of hand too quickly. We were the type of couple that were the same and different, we agreed and didn’t, we balanced. We didn’t fight, not until this. I didn’t get in his face when I started, I couldn’t get that close and maintain the composure I needed to get the words out. I let a few things slip out that I shouldn’t have. I was tired of us being in the dark. He quickly got in my face until I was backed into a corner. But still I spoke my mind. I shouldn’t have brought up what his friend said, it was too new, too raw, but I poked at it nonetheless.

I never saw his hand coming until after my head had snapped to the side. It took me a minute to be able to look at him and when I did . . . I could see that what he had just did hurt more than anything his friend or I had just said to him. He knew that this was it. Neither of us spoke as I carefully walked around the room picking up a few pieces of clothing and tossing them on before walking out the door. First I started shaking but I didn’t really notice it until I saw my hands in front of me. My breaths started coming in shorter gasps and all I wanted to do was make it out of this room, out of this house, before I broke down. I had been through this before and no matter how I cared for him, I couldn’t do it again. He tried to say something, but it caught in his throat. Nothing he said could fix this, maybe this was the easy way out. He could claim it was a one time thing, this was his out. Maybe he didn’t want to save us. Save me.

This is what lead me to now. Curled in a ball on the white tile of my bathroom floor. Sobbing. My cheek still hurt, and before the floor I had noticed the black and purple forming on my cheekbone. Maybe this is what I was doomed to do. Maybe I would never find someone who could hold their temper long enough to not physically lash out at me. But the pain was emotional, I was caught in a free fall with nothing to catch me as I crashed to the ground. The only heartbeat left to listen to was my own, wildly beating in my ear as I tried to quell the panic in my chest. And after all of that, everything we said, I said, I still missed him. I would always miss him, because I was lost, setting my life to a tempo, a heartbeat, that I could no longer hear.


End file.
